I hope I’ll look back on this time and remember the silence.
Headphones over my ears listening to Yoko Ono’s screams broken by the
drip drip drip
of fresh coffee. I pour a cup, fluffy robe around me, soft slippers padding back to the couch.
Silence is back.
I smell the coffee before it hits my tongue, freezing me in the present moment. My hands wrap around the warm mug, my swallowing the only sound for miles. Flowers bloom outside,
I watch the talking bees muffled by the window.
I look out,
they look in,
we don’t speak.